Well, it’s been a bit of a week. Half term can be a bit knackering normally but I honestly think we all need another week off to recover this time round. We’ve been plagued with two different bugs in the house and the only one who’s come out unscathed so far is Henry. Polly and I are currently under a blanket watching This Morning hoping the end is finally in sight. Clara started the show last Tuesday then passed her sickness bug onto Seb by Thursday. He then recovered from that quite quickly but went down with the second bug on Friday night- one that he’s kindly passed onto myself and then Polly over the last 48 hours. The second bug is some sort of feverish sweaty shivering tiredness thing that leaves you feeling a bit drunk without the fun bits of actually being drunk. But the sad reality of being sick when you’re a parent can be summed up with the help of that Cinderella meme where she gets her make over and looks fabulous, you know the one with the caption that this is how mum’s feel after an uninterrupted shower, well this is true as I did feel a bit like a Queen when I stepped out of the shower this morning but sadly it’s back to the Cinderella life style of scrubbing and cleaning with a bump as 24 hours spent laying about in pjs means that the house looks like the scene in the new version where the carriage explodes back into a pumpkin.

But enough of our woeful never-ending saga of sickness, we did actually manage some fun in half term too. We took the kids to Crealy on the first Sunday to experience the Halloween fun there. We maybe should have listened to the warning about the two more scarier attractions not being suitable for younger children because of my goodness they were terrifying. It was good fun and the kids did see the funny side afterwards but Polly shouting “I’m not interested in that” all the way through the scary maze as various characters jumped out at us probably summed up how she was feeling at the time. I did try and go into them both with a determined attitude that it was just people dressed up and it would be fun, to try and make the kids feel more at ease- however, this did not go to plan and the first creepy fucker who jumped out at me made me scream and nearly wet my pants so that was it and the illusion of being brave was shattered. Safe to say they said they’d give it a miss next year.

Polly has got her own back twice though so I’m not feeling too guilty. The other night when I came out the bathroom in the dark she was stood outside the bathroom door in silence with no warning at all, luckily I’d just been for a wee or I really would have wet myself that time, I did end up on the floor swearing and crying with relief as she was giving off horror movie vibes and for a moment I thought I was getting a visit from that creepy arse girl in The Ring films. Just for good measure on another night she did that classic kid trick of stand by the side of the bed in complete silence so when you roll over and open your eyes to readjust the pillow there’s a silent starring child waiting by your head- similar reaction that time round.

She has also given us some very proud moments in the last couple of weeks. She made her promise at Brownie’s and officially became a Brownie with a big smile on her face as she did it. She also like the other two got glowing reports at parent’s evening which is always a relief. She’s also got her hands on one of my notebooks and has started writing down some of the stories and poems that she’s forever coming up with which honestly makes my heart sing. The girl has always got her head in a book and this week has started reading the Chronicles of Narnia. Raising a child who is very similar to you can be very frustrating sometimes as it is honestly like arguing into a mirror but when some of the traits of yourself that you actually quite like start coming out in that little mini-me then it makes all that other shit a lot more bearable.

Seb it seems is learning another of my lovely traits- sarcasm and dark humour. This I will only ever encourage though. Just the other day when we were in the car he asked what would happen if he weren’t wearing a seatbelt- straight to the point I told him that if we crashed he’d smash out of a broken window, go flying and probably die, his response- ‘well I would just wind the window down and then I’d just fly out the window instead and I’d be ok.’ His make me proud moment came a few days later, the kids were zoned out watching some crappy Ryan’s world YouTube video where his Mum was attempting to sing some ridiculous song about the planets that was honestly driving me to tears, when Seb turned round and said “Mummy, turn it off.” Hallelujah! He then went one step further and asked to watch the new Planet Earth episode again as he wanted to see the sharks again.

Henry has also introduced a new song to the kids growing music collection- ‘It’s Raining Men.’ This has quickly become one of Seb’s favourites, right up there with Karma Chameleon. Clara provided great entertainment when I was washing up the other day when she came running in to dance when Ella Henderson’s ‘Ghost’ started playing- it took us both straight back to a rainy field in July where we danced to it live. She’s also enjoying my constant playing of Taylor Swift and is well on her way to becoming a little Swiftie. This has gone up a notch since I went with a friend to see the Era’s tour at the local cinema- it was by the way an incredible night out and I am still buzzing off it even now. Girl can put on a show.

Anyway time for me to go back to being raggedy Cinderella as the washing machine has just beeped at me again. Hopefully the next post will be without any ailments but the rate we’re going I think it more likely that I have had a visit from an actual fairy Godmother.

So today’s post is actually a re-blog from way back in April 2021- which feels like a whole lifetime ago. I feel quite passionately about this topic, Henry has had to endure several rage filled rants about this topic only in the last week so I figured I’d share my thoughts on it again for everyone to suffer!

Here it is copied straight from the original post…

So, as I start getting ready to go back to work after a mix of maternity leave and furlough there are lots of emotions swirling through my brain as it’s been a weird year and this is the last mat leave. One of those emotions was guilt and then I sat one morning and thought- why do I feel that?

There’s no #dadguilt trending, but I can guarantee I’ll read #mumguilt at least once a day- even I’m guilty of using this phrase. Well today I’m saying no more (and please feel free to point out if I use it again in future!) because I’m making a vow from this moment to shove that phrase up my arse.

Why should I feel guilty? Why should working make me feel guilty? I’m providing for my family. Why should being a stay at home mum make me feel guilty? I’m raising my kids in a way that suits my family. Why should I feel guilty if I don’t bring a penny of income into my family home if my partner (which indicates a team unit) does work while I deal with the childcare. Why does my worth need a financial basis? Why should I feel guilty if I have an afternoon ‘off’ and get my nails done, go for a cinema date with a friend or spend an hour sitting on the beach with the sun in my face? We all need time to recharge in life so why as a mum am I being pushed to feel guilty for showing my kids that there is more to me than ‘mum’, there is ‘me.’ But, if I choose to not do any of that and don’t want ‘me time’ right now- then guess what? That’s nobodies business either.

Social media is great for many things but it is also responsible for pushing this stupid movement. Picture perfect playrooms on Instagram that are too perfect to even be played in, that make some feel guilty because they can’t recreate them and are pushed to feel guilt at their second hand toy box that actually provides laughter from a grateful and happy child. Fuck that guilt.

Those going on about the organic home made meals they’ve prepared for a baby whose probably going to throw most of it up the walls, but this is triggering guilt in the 9-5 working mum whose plated up chicken nuggets and chips (that will end up in clean plates by the way!). Fuck that guilt.

The page full of hourly snaps of a child with the #blessed #preciousmoments #nevermissamoment that a frazzled mum stumbles on during her 10 minute break in a 9 hour shift away from her #blessing, who is told she could ‘be there for every moment’ if she makes a ‘lifestyle change’ that actually only suits about 0.001% of the population and makes her question for a moment what she’s doing, when actually she’s doing exactly what is right for her family. Fuck that guilt.

The mum who is home 24/7 with her six kids who pops to have her hair done and gets greeted with the comment- “oh is your husband treating you?” Fuck that guilt and that judgement. She’s treating herself like the queen she is for bringing up those six kids.

The mum in the shoe shop trying to usher her excited school starter away from the £40 shoes and instead pointing out the pretty ribbon on the £5 ones she can afford. Fuck that guilt.

The mum watching her excited school starter trying on those £40 shoes with her heart bursting with pride while trying not to make the other mum feel bad. Fuck that guilt.

The mum working round the clock to pay for a dream holiday to Disney who misses the ‘first steps’ working an extra shift, trying to picture the look of wonder meeting Mickey Mouse will bring to make up for a different missed milestone. Fuck that guilt.

The mum who quits work altogether to raise her miracle IVF baby and soak up every minute who declines a zoo play date as the budget of one household income means the priorities have shifted. Fuck that guilt.

The chat at the baby sensory group about everyone’s birth experiences that triggers a whole rollercoaster of emotions for the mum who didn’t experience the birth she wanted or planned. Fuck that guilt.

Breast fed. Bottle fed

Baby led weaning. Purée food.

Baby groups. No groups.

Buying everything new. Buying everything second hand.

Back to work. Work from home. No work.

Fuck all that guilt.

The whole concept of mum guilt can quite frankly do one. I’m just a mum like many others- doing what is right and best for my kids, for me, for my husband- for our family. I am perfectly entitled to live my best life without being judged by anyone- including me, especially me. I should not be encouraged to feel guilt unless I’m actually harming my kids (or anyone else!) and last time I checked… my kids are doing just fine- thanks to me (and Henry of course!), so why the hell should I feel guilty for anything I do to achieve that?